


Woken

by seriousfic



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 14:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3138098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousfic/pseuds/seriousfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw and Root’s life together is like a dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Woken

Root was awoken by a stir of fingers under her thigh, a whisper in her ear, and both were so gentle that it was a wonder she woke at all. Only the fact that she was already slowly coming awake, drowsing more than anything else, opened her eyes.

 

“What?”

 

“I said,” Shaw replied, her voice equally low but now somewhat dangerous as she registered Root truly was awake, “that you really need to fuck me.”

 

“Oh?” Root retorted with a yawn. She was on her side, Shaw behind her, the spy insistent on being the big spoon no matter how awkward her height (or lack thereof) made it.

 

“When I agreed to this, you knew I had needs. Now I’m about five seconds away from ditching you, going to a bar, and jumping the first person that buys me a drink. Isn’t that more important than naptime?”

 

“I was having a wonderful dream about Her.” Root smiled into her pillow. “But you are…” She turned onto her back, making herself supine in a way she hoped brought her breasts to prominence, her smile equally so. “Very important to me. My sun and my stars.”

 

“That’s great. Eat me out now.”

 

“Tell me you love me first,” Root replied, head tilted, equally coy.

 

She got an eye-roll from Shaw. She knew Shaw had to. Making a dismayed sigh, a shake of her head, a bit of a grunt was the only way to defer the smile that would tug at her lips otherwise. “What’s it worth to you?”

 

Root slid her hand across the mattress, under Shaw’s body… then out the other side, curling around her waist to just… land her fingertips on Shaw’s ass. “If you tell me you love me… _and mean it…_ well, I could see myself doing just about anything for someone who loves me.”

 

“Yeah?” Shaw virtually _purred,_ her voice silken but too rough to be silk. “Why don’t you just think up some… examples?” Her own hand lighted on Root’s thigh, teasing at the leghole of her underwear, plucking and picking at the little cotton boy-shorts that made Shaw taunt her as much as hunger for her.

 

“Oh?” Root asked breathily. ”You want me to just… lie back and… think of all the things I would do for you? Or to you? Or let you do for me?”

 

Her fingers steepled on Shaw’s perfect ass.

 

Shaw brought her lips close to Root’s before pulling them away, running them down her cheek, down to her throat to let her feel how warm her breath was. Warmth, _fire,_ that trickled down Root’s shoulder, into her breasts, everywhere… “I think you do that _whenever_ I’m not here. And in the shower. So now I just want you to _say it._ ”

 

“And then you’ll _say it_?” Root retorted, in sugary sweet mimicry of Shaw’s tough voice.

 

“That I… like you? To a certain degree? And that maybe there’s a word for that level of fondness?” Said as Shaw flicked her finger up the crotch of Root’s underwear.

 

“Yes,” Root sighed. Like with the whisper and the touch, it was hard to tell which affected her more.

 

“ _Say it,”_ Shaw demanded, voice going dark, impatience tightening her throat, her finger planted unerring on Root’s erecting clit through her briefs.

 

Root opened her mouth and a bit of wind came out, a trapped gasp that couldn’t quite get free. After a burning look from Shaw, she found her voice. “I will… let you… move in with me.”

 

“Mmm.” Shaw glanced around at the penthouse apartment that the Machine had commandeered for Root. More than enough room for her guns. Two refrigerators. Great sniping position. “That is nice. What else?”

 

“I will stitch up all your owies.”

 

“Don’t know if that should count.” Shaw’s questing hand flickered up to feel the healing scar on Root’s lower belly. The stitches had just come out a week ago. “I do the same for you plenty. Quid pro quo, Clarice.”

 

Root grinned at her. “You think I’m Hannibal? That is so sweet…”

 

Shaw’s fingernail picked at the fading scab on its way back down. “Keep going. Or I won’t.”

 

“I will cook you three square meals a day.”

 

“Only counts if you can _cook._ ”

 

“I’m a great cook. I pretended to be a chef for three months. _And_ I will walk your dog for you.”

 

“Our dog. I wanted a pitbull. You insisted on the Schnauzer.”

 

“He’s so cute _and_ he kills rats!” Root pursed her lips and Shaw could no longer resist giving her a quick kiss before she went back to her smoldering brood. Now she’d rolled over Root, their legs joined, their hips brushing together. “I will wash your clothes.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“I will cuddle with you on the couch and let you choose what Netflix we watch.”

 

“Ooh.”

 

“I will get you Broadway tickets and hold your hand during the loud parts.”

 

“Oh.” Another desultory noise from Shaw. “You’re so thoughtful.”

 

Root plucked Shaw’s hand from where it had just started to pry into her underwear, relishing the little lost look of confusion in Shaw’s eyes before she brought it to her belly. “I’ll have your baby.”

 

“Technically, it’s the donor’s baby.”

 

“I’ll let you pick the donor.”

 

“Like I didn’t choose exactly who you wanted…”

 

“I’ll feel our little girl growing inside me every day and when she’s here—“ Root couldn’t help a sigh. “Actually _here…_ I’ll raise her to be big and strong, just like her mama. So you can be proud of both of us.”

 

“Well, that hardly should count as your thing.” Careful of Root’s belly, as flat as it still was at this point, Shaw shifted a leg over her lover and looked down at her, straddling her so they formed one elegant rune. “I’m gonna help with that. Scout’s honor.”

 

“Oh, that’s right, you don’t get to leave.” Root’s grin was completely lopsided. “I’d have triplets if it made you stay.”

 

“That seems excessive. You know you just need _this…”_ Shaw said as her outstretched finger ran over Root’s lips.

 

Had to be her middle finger, though.

 

“My lovely voice,” Root agreed.

 

“Your mouth,” Shaw corrected. “And what’s inside it.”

 

“The voice of an angel…”

 

“Tongue of a devil.”

 

“Only when you give me a kiss.”

 

“You owe me a kiss first.”

 

“You’re either going to have to go a lot lower or a lot higher.”

 

“Never date a cyborg with an AI in her ear: She’ll read your mind.”

 

Root tried to avoid it, but sometimes she just had to turn serious. “Say it, Sameen. I need to hear it at least once a day.”

 

“I love you.” Shaw walked on her knees up Root’s body, her boxers dragging over Root’s chest until all Root could see was flannel. “Well? Aren’t you going to say it back?”

 

Root closed her eyes. Listening to the voice, making it into Shaw’s before it could evaporate, pushing and pushing and pushing like she could force it into reality. She could make so many things real with her mind, thoughts and plans and programs… why not a memory?

 

The Machine knew she was crying. Probably knew the saline content of her tears. But She just barely knew how to begin knowing how to help. So She asked.

 

“Yes. I would like you to run another scenario.” Root wiped at her eyes. “Put the dog in it this time. She loved that dog.”


End file.
